There Is No Me In Quidditch
by caratach
Summary: Harry is roped into a reunion quidditch game where great sporting truths are revealed!


**There's No Me in Quidditch**

**by **

**Brian Forsyth**

The train pulled away with Lula aboard.

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing, the Hogwarts train, forever in his memory as his train, pulling away with his little girl. Sure, he'd experienced this event once already with Albus, but where had the time gone? Lula was his little girl just yesterday. Harry felt a tear in his right eye even as he heard Ginny still talking with the Weasleys to his right.

"Hey, Harry," a voice boomed in a friendly tone.

Harry turned. The voice was familiar but he couldn't quite . . . .

Oliver Wood was bearing down on him, hand outstretched. Wood wore black slacks and a brown tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, a twin to one Harry owned. Luckily, it was at home in the closet; Harry was wearing a dark blue sweater Lily had knitted for him.

Harry extended his right hand, and they shook. Harry was close in height to Wood now, something that took some getting used to, but Wood was still broader and had a hand the size of a ham.

"Good to see you," Harry said.

Wood nodded toward the train. "Your first child?"

"No," Harry said. "But, my first daughter, Lula."

"Right, I even met Albus, how stupid." Wood smacked his palm against his forehead with a grin.

Harry didn't bother mentioning his other boys; no point in making Oliver feel bad.

"Lula will love Hogwarts," Oliver said. "My son, Axe, is onboard. He does nothing but rave about how great it is these days."

"Good to hear." Harry didn't point out that his own son had graduated recently.

"I was one of those that thought you might become headmaster. I lost the office pool."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione is twice the headmaster I could ever be. We miss having her in the aurors, though."

Wood smiled. "Hermione's great, but you're a legend. You're good with magic, and kids worship you."

Harry grimaced. "The legend has gotten old. Hogwarts is best off with Hermione."

Wood put his hands up in surrender. "You're right. I was a fool to bet on you."

Harry laughed. "I didn't even apply. Academia and I never really mixed."

Wood sighed. "You have an exciting job, anyway. I heard about you and the dragon."

"Sorry, can't comment."

"Took the Dragon Master down, I heard," Wood said.

Harry gave him a look.

Wood shrugged. "Better than sitting at a desk like me or giving demerits to kids sneaking off campus."

"We were those kids," Harry said. Harry stroked the new scar on his left forearm, a scar which magic healing hadn't been able to completely eradicate. Sadly, the only shape the scar resembled was an ugly red puddle. He'd missed his family while in the jungle and been terrified of letting his children down by not making it back. More desk work might be just the thing.

"It's been nice seeing you," Harry said, "but, I've got—"

"Wait!" Woods said. "Before I forget, can I count on you for the twenty-five year Hogwarts reunion Quidditch match?"

Harry was flabbergasted. "I don't think so."

"We need you Harry."

"I haven't played in years."

"It's for charity," Woods said, "for the school. Hermione is using the proceeds from the match for scholarships."

Harry felt guilty about any time away from his family at this point. Normally, when he was back from a long mission, he wouldn't commit to anything else. Yet, he felt guilty about how long it'd been since he'd seen Hermione. Harry hadn't done anything to support Hogwarts. And, the reunion would be a chance to see Lulu, so Ginny could hardly complain.

"The stadium is named after you Harry. You can really help raise money for the poor kids."

"She didn't ask me about the naming," Harry said. "But, all right, I'm in."

Five weeks later, pushing politely through the crowd at Hogwarts's Potter stadium, and passing under a "See Harry Potter Play" banner in the first hallway, Harry questioned the wisdom of his decision. He hated attention. Luckily, he was wearing the Weasely disguise illusion called "The Boring Man"—it made you appear non-descript.

Of course, he carried his new Nimbus Twenty Thousand under his arm which made him a boring man carrying a racing broom. So far, the crowd seemed to be writing him off as an old equipment manager. Jenny had looked a bit askance at him when he'd had to visit Gringots to retrieve the funds for the new broom. The prices had skyrocketed since he'd last bought one. Still, he deserved a bit of fun. Needed fun, really. He'd been working hard for a very long time as an auror, and it was grueling work. He and Ginny had finally gotten out to their country home three weeks back, which felt more empty without Lula. Harry had been zooming around the barn with his younger two boys ever since, trying to get his flying touch back. It'd made him feel young again—well, after Ginny cast a relaxamis spell on his back muscles. Pulling out of a steep dive with his faster broom created strain in the lower back. He'd thought himself in good shape, but this high speed flying with the new broom was something else.

Finally, Harry reached the old wooden arched locker room door. Unfortunately, there was a large obstacle.

One of Hadgrid's sons barred the way.

"Sorry, Pops, but broom signing is after the match," Arid said.

Harry grinned up at Arid.

"Arid," Harry said. "It's me, Harry."

Arid's enormous brow furrowed. "Sounds like Mr. Potter but don't look like Mr. Potter." He leaned down to peer an enormous eye at Harry.

"I'm wearing the Weasley disguise cap, item number 102, Incognito," Harry said.

"Maybe," Arid said. "And, maybe you're an intruder using the Weasley item number 17, Impersonator."

A fair point. Harry stood still for a moment wondering how to convince Arid. Then, he pulled the beaten brown cap off, breaking the illusion.

"Harry," Arid said with a grin, sweeping out his hand to cuff Harry on the shoulder.

Harry dodged under Arid's tree-like arm with the urgency of someone dodging a falling tree. Harry's kids had never seen him play in a proper Quidditch match, so Harry wanted to at least be able to hold on to the broom.

Ginny and the kids should be making their way through the stands.

"See you," Harry said.

"Luck Harry," Arid said.

Harry noted that brooms might have changed enormously over the years, but the locker room remained the same. While the yellow and red stained walls made him feel nostalgic, he thought the place might use an upgrade. Some of the red looked like more like faded blood than old paint. Maybe he should mention something to Hermione? Harry was doubtful that she'd place any serious funds into sports rather than academics. Maybe he should talk to Ron about spear-heading a fund.

Ron was at the lockers.

"Ron!" Harry said. "You're supposed to be in the swamps of Sferza."

"And miss the reunion match?" Ron said, springing up with a giant's grin and seizing Harry in an enormous hug. "I came though Hermione's chimney an hour ago."

"Like old times," Harry said, struggling out of Ron's grip.

The two men smiled wryly.

"You remember how to play goalie?"

Ron tapped his forehead with his index finger. "It's like riding a broom."

"Fancy broom riding," Harry said. "Well, let's see if we can avoid making fools of ourselves."

Harry saw their names magically floating before two lockers.

Looking inside, he discovered Woods had left a new, large Gryffindor uniform hanging inside.

"Thank goodness," Harry said. "My old stuff was a bit tight."

"Mine fit perfectly," said Ron innocently.

Pow! That earned him a punch on the right arm. Harry felt young and carefree.

"Hey," said Ron, "lucky you hit the padding."

"Wasn't luck," Harry said.

Ron punched Harry in the shoulder. "One punch for humility."

"If I can't move my right arm fast enough to grab the snitch, the game might never end."

Ron mumbled something about the snitch while leaning in his locker.

Harry thought he heard the word "new."

"Harry, Ron!" Wood's voice called out. "Hurry! Game's about to start."

Ron immediately grabbed his broom and ran for the tunnel.

Harry pulled on his leather gloves and then picked up his broom. Here goes nothing. He jogged for the inner door and caught up to Ron in the tunnel, lined up behind the rest of the team. Harry was only breathing slightly hard.

"Say," Harry said to the back of Ron's head as they began walking out of the tunnel. "What was that you were saying about the snitch?" He noticed that Ron's thick red and grey hair had a bald spot in the middle back.

Ron looked back over his shoulder at Harry. "The new rules."

Harry blinked. "What new rules?"  
The crowd roared.

Ron jogged forward, obviously not hearing him.

New rules? Harry had been so busy the last few years, he hadn't actually paid any active attention to quidditch. Maybe he should've done his homework.

The players were zooming out of the tunnel.

Harry mounted and flew out into the stadium.

"Harry Potter, Gryffindor!"

The cacophony was deafening. And, seeing all the people was startling! Harry wasn't used to crowds. He flew in circles, gaining altitude. He gave a little wave as he circled past Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Oliver, George and Ron. Looking down, he tried to spy the box his family would be in. He thought he spotted Lily's yellow scarf. The trumpets sounded shaking the air like thunder, and, as Harry looked away from the crowd, he was hit in the stomach by a bludger.

Pain fired through him as he held onto his broom with all his might, gasping for breath, and tasting his dragonfruit breakfast. He threw himself into a spiral for safety.

A disappointed moan floated up from the crowd.

Tell me about it, Harry thought.

When he'd steadied his flight, he'd lost half his altitude. Looking around, he saw Ron block a quaffle from going into a goal. Harry grinned through his pain. The happiness was short-lived as he glimpsed Cho Chang below him pursuing a glint of gold. Feeling like a teen again, Harry pushed his broom into a daring dive. I'm not going to lose the game in the first two minutes, Harry thought. Wind whipped his hair back, tears filled his eyes, and, whoosh, there went his glasses flying off his face. Harry hadn't remembered to change into his flying goggles; it was the sort of detail he'd gotten used to Ginny reminding him of.

Harry pulled out of his dive and flew above the ground fifty feet down as the crowd roared. He couldn't see the fine details, but Ravenclaw was obviously celebrating. It was over. How humiliating. He drifted over by the grandstand, trying to put on a brave face.

"Harry!"

Harry looked at the woman floating out of the stands at him. His eyesight really had deteriorated the last few years.

"Hermione?" he inquired.

"Bloody right, Harry. Hold still!" Hermione was putting something onto Harry's face.

Harry's vision came back into focus.

"Fastenemous!" Hermione said. "They'll stay now."

"Thanks," Harry said. "But, I lost the game."

"That was only the first snitch," Hermione said. "Buck up, Harry. Got to give the crowd their show."

Harry's head spun. "What are you talking about?"

"Quidditch, Harry," Hermione said. "Dumbledore had cast his master revision spell to change the rules; he changed history. The one-on-one contest. The Seeker focused on winning the game for everyone. Always seeking, never giving up. It was a training metaphor he made for you, Harry."

"What about the multiple day matches?"

"Completely impractical for a widespread sport," Hermione said. "Think about it. It all came out while you were on assignment. The game never did make sense. Sorry, I thought someone told you."

Harry gazed at his old friend. Everything she said denied his sense of history, of Quidditch in the world.

"Are you serious? How would that even be possible?" Harry argued. "Quidditch has been played throughout the wizarding world! What about Brage and the 150 galleons?"

"Greatest wizard of his age," Hermione said. "Turns out illusion was Dumbledore's strongest talent, and it was only 15 galleons for the snitch."

"Herm, you've ripped my reality to shreds," Harry said, stunned.

Hermione stared Harry in the eyes. "Buck up, Potter. It's only a game. Now, finally, it's is a team game again. Each of the three snitches gets faster, and ten points, fifteen, then thirty. Short break after each snitch is caught. Game ends when the third one is caught or a team reaches one hundred fifty points total. It's all about team play."

The trumpets sounded.

"Round two," Hermione said. She kissed Harry on the cheek. "Go get'em, Potter." She gave him a shove. It was like they were young chums again.

Harry flew upward, feeling the weight of the world slip from his shoulders.


End file.
